


Everything we needed

by sparkly_butthole



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Conversations and stuff, Experimental writing, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Purple Prose, Reflection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-09-24 06:02:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9706295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkly_butthole/pseuds/sparkly_butthole
Summary: A bunch of one-shots dealing with the lives of Kaidan and Shepard during the Reaper War. All take place in The Future Is Ours universe unless otherwise specified.Will add tags as needed.





	1. Blue

               Green used to be my favorite color.

               The sights and scents of my childhood. Sage and lavender in the breeze. Children, alive and happy then, running everywhere. Carefree, just as I once was.

               Rolling grasses beneath my feet, between my toes, cool dirt and the heady sense of something so innately good, vibrant and alive. So _green_. The color of life that seeps into the heart and holds tight when the dark whispers around you, tries to overtake you until it’s all you can see.

               Home- Mindoir- would never be the same place for me, not after the attack, but this memory I could hold. This simple thing I could take with me. When the pain became too much, the sense of loss, especially in the beginning, I’d just close my eyes and be on that hilltop, right outside of the village, watching the lush sea of grass blow gently in the wind. Peace within the emptiness I sometimes felt in my soul.

               But the direction of the wind changes, and now I have a new place, another place, in these dark days that may be our last.

               Breathless on the battlefield, a cobalt aura surrounding him, brilliant and bright as the sun. Lightning in his hands, crackling with the promise of power and death held within.

               Breathless as our bodies move together, primal, the icy counterpoint to the fire in our veins, making beautiful music that only we can hear, astounding artwork only we can see.

               Breathless as we lay panting after, a cool glow surrounding us, calm and still. Safety in his arms.

               Now when I close my eyes, trying to find the center, I see nothing but him. The absolute certainty of his love pulses over me in waves, the color of the sky morning, noon, and night, watching over me and protecting me so that I can do what needs to be done. It pushes me to go on in spite of all this pain and destruction that surrounds me, surrounds us, trying to push us into the ground but failing as I stay within that barrier that he has provided. Where we stay alive to fight another day, because of each other.

               It is a new kind of home, a blue home, and I will fall into it forever.


	2. Pulling Rank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Double entendres everywhere.

“You know, I could’ve pulled rank on you any time I wanted.”

              “Huh. I’d have liked to have seen that.”

            “Oh, you’d have given in. I know you just can’t resist that urge to _salute_ me, Lieutenant Commander.”

              “Is that what we’re calling it? Anyway, Major, you don’t outrank me. I’m Alliance Navy; you’re Alliance Marine. Technically not the same thing.”

              “Semantics.”

              “Kaidan, get real.”

              “Wasn’t I head of Marine detail even before I got promoted _twice?”_

              “You still fell in line. You’ll always fall in line behind me, Major.”

              “The point being that I never had to, and still don’t, according to Alliance military ranking.”

              “And might I remind you, even if that were true, this isn’t an Alliance ship? Cerberus built it, in case you forgot.”

              “It is now.”

              “No, Kaidan. This ship is under Council jurisdiction now; it serves more than just the Alliance.”

              “Uh huh. Pullling the Spectre card then? Guess who is also a Spectre here?”

            “Junior Spectre, I must add. Also NOT an N7 graduate.”

            “Oh, you’re bringing that into it?”

            “Damn straight, Alenko. There’s a reason you drop to your knees when I walk in the room.”

              Garrus turned to Tali, whispering. “Umm… are we still talking about taking charge of the Normandy? Or, uh… something else… because the looks they’re giving each other tell me we should go…”


	3. The Bright Light that is Kaidan Alenko

John sets up the camera. He’s in an abandoned building in London, secluded. The sounds of the war fill his ears; soldiers screaming, crying. Dying. Gunshots and blood in the air. He does his best to ignore it, as this is one of the most- if not _the_ most- important things he has ever needed to do. Soon he’ll be making the final push to the beam. Kaidan will be on his team, of course, but any number of things could go wrong. That’s why he’s doing this, after all. In case they’re separated. In case…

He sighs. If there is a time to think such things, it’s now. So he faces it head-on. This message is in case John doesn’t make it. He knows full well that Kaidan has recorded one for him, too. Probably says the same things he will.

He breathes in deep.

No point putting it off.

No time to do that anyway.

He turns the camera on.

 

 “I had so many things I wanted to say to you, but now that the moment is here, I don’t have the words anymore. You know that I’m gone, and I don’t think I’ll be coming back this time around.”

 

He glances at the ground, briefly.

Glances back into the camera.

 

 “You’re going to hate me for saying this, but… it’s better this way. I would’ve been lost without you, K, but you are so much stronger than I ever was. Someday, you will find someone that fulfills you, probably better than I ever could have. There will be a family, kids, dogs, cats, who knows with you?”

 

He grinds out a laugh, knowing it sounds forced, hoping it doesn’t sound bitter. What he’s saying is the absolute truth, but it hurts. A lot.

 

 “If I could’ve been there… I would’ve. I would have tried to be the husband you deserve, though I could never come close to it. Your courage, your kindness… the way you love me, have always loved me…”

 

His voice trails off as he looks, sightless, through the far window.

 

 “I’m sorry. We knew this day would come.”

 

They had. Kaidan just admitted it to him, fifteen minutes before he came in here. Kaidan didn’t expect both of them to make it out of this alive and whole. Hell, odds were good neither of them would. John still knows that Kaidan will be pissed to hear this out of his mouth, after he’d just told him that he’d be here waiting for him. He hopes that anger helps to carry Kaidan through.

 

  “I guess I wanted to let you know that you were the one thing that has kept me going. All living creatures in the galaxy deserve their own lives and their own choices. There are other loved ones that are important to me, too. But you… you are the one person I never could’ve done this without. My light in the darkness. I know I don’t have to explain my feelings for you. But I need to say this.

 You are what I fight for. You, and only you. I don’t know if that makes me selfish or not… I guess it just makes me a man. _Your_ man. Your husband.”

 

He’s whispering now because that’s all the voice he has left in him.

 

 “My old soldier. Take whatever light I have given you and the love I feel for you so much it hurts. Go be the man I know you are. Find happiness. You deserve it more than anyone.”

 

His eyes shut tight before he says his last words to Kaidan. It has to end soon, or he will break down, and he has to keep it together. It’s almost over. The message, the mission, probably his life.

In his mind: Kaidan’s gravelly voice, his laughter, that special, small smile he’d always reserved exclusively for Shepard. The kindness in his eyes. His integrity. The weight of him, as he’d sat on Shepard, loving him and giving of himself, always giving. The bright light that is Kaidan Alenko.

 

 “You were wrong the whole time, Kaidan. It’s me who is the luckiest man in the galaxy.”

 

John Shepard’s eyes are full of tears as he says the last words. “Remember that I love you. Always.”

 

He clicks the camera off and sobs violently, shouting and crying all of the emotion out in a handful of minutes. Then he rubs his eyes, puts the camera away, and marches back to war.


	4. Everything They Needed

**Normandy SR-1/ What They Remember**

      The first thing Kaidan notices about him are his eyes. Bright and sharp, like ice, if ice were whittled down to a singularity and set afire, pulling everything inwards with its inescapable gravity. Intelligence shines through them, a ray of focus edged with curiosity and a clear coat of something innately human, a quality like empathy or kindness that strikes the heart of Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko and leaves him breathless.

      The commander introduces himself, unassuming smile somehow just as amazing as those eyes, and it’s all Kaidan can do to mumble some words in return, not even sure if it makes sense just knowing he has to say something. He’s not sure if it’s his imagination running wild because his adrenaline sure as fuck is but it seems the commander’s eyes linger on his, amusement dancing behind them, before he moves on to the next man.

      Kaidan supposes that is the way of the world for Commander Shepard. The man is a hero, worshipped across the stars for his deeds, and somehow, impossibly, Kaidan now knows that he lives up to that worship, deserves every bit of it. The fact he is still alive is a miracle twice over. After Mindoir, where his friends and family had been ripped away from him like skin weave, maybe if that weave was holding your soul together instead of your epidermis, and how had he moved on? Then after Akuze, where he watched his entire squad melt, fifty men absolutely ruined in ten minutes of hell that probably felt like an eternity. The very existence of the man is improbable. So it’s no surprise that in just a few glances, the touch of calloused hands at their meeting, _and oh how he wants to feel those hands again, just one more second_ , he knows that John Shepard will be his undoing.

     

 

      There are so many things that captivate John, but the first thing he notices about Kaidan is his smile. Soft, sensual lips in such a gorgeous face, but heaven help him, when those lips tip upwards in that uniquely subtle fashion it just disarms him, disassembles him in the best way. Especially the right corner. It has a mind of its own. That corner is the key to unlocking the secrets of Kaidan Alenko: he’s sure of it. It whispers to him, settles in his mind during the Normandy nighttime, giving away those little morsels his biotic wants to hide. Sensual packages sent just for John.

      At least that’s what his dreams tell him. So he decides right away that he’s going to live in his dreams, live _for_ them.

      His military training is too strong to push it, so he takes comfort in what he can. Camaraderie, empathy. A friendship, he hopes. Their first conversation stutters. Those still waters, they run deep. John knows this, can tell this because it’s reflected in his own soul. Who knows what he could find, swimming there? The best thing about being aboard the Normandy isn’t the career opportunity, or the pay grade, or even the chance to work with Anderson directly. It’s one specific biotic, lighting his dreams in blue flame.

 

 

**Alchera & Cerberus/ What They Forget         **

      He forgets what it’s like to be whole.

      Never did he think it possible to hurt this much. He’s caught somewhere between haunting and haunted, some in-between state that makes him believe none of this can possibly be worth it. Damn the regs, now. Damn the Alliance. Damn the Reapers, the collectors, the geth. All that had kept and will now forever keep John Shepard from him.

      Really though, he knows it’s his own damn fault. Missed opportunities are like missiles, there and gone in the blink of an eye and who knows what would have happened if they hit you. The Commander had been a missile, straight and strong and true and he’d never been aiming for Kaidan, had he? No.

      But the voices inside him tell him he could have jumped in front of that beautiful missile that was once his commanding officer and is now just so much shrapnel. Even if it killed him, it would have been better than this tortuous purgatory he now finds himself in.

_I hate you, John_ , he thinks, but it’s not true, it’s the opposite of what’s true and instead he turns that in on himself. Hates himself. Loathes himself. Buried under the mud and muck of the worst years of his life and the best, too, at the bedrock. That’s where he lives now.

      John Shepard _had_ been his undoing.

    

 

      He forgets what it’s like to be whole.

      John wakes up and the only thing he can think of is Kaidan. Voice like whiskey and honey, the strangest charm he’s ever heard. A siren’s song. A lullaby. Eyes like chocolate and hazelnut. Smile reserved just for him, the brightest light in the darkness that is his life. And nobody knows or has ever known him like Kaidan does, or has the same effect on him. His best friend. All the medals and commendations, all the promotions, the things that used to be important to him have all fallen by the wayside in favor of what’s really important in this world, this galaxy, this universe.

      Only now he’s alone. Without Kaidan, without anything or anybody he trusts, thrust into something he never asked for and doesn’t want. The still calm of death, once accepted, is the greatest peace a man can ever know, and if not for thoughts of seeing Kaidan again he’d be begging for that peace now. All of him hurts, his skull and his feet and everything in between. The voice on the comm is tinny, irritating in a way he can’t possibly describe, asking him to get up, get out, be the great Commander Shepard again. It grates under his skin like dust. He feels raw and new, burning like the orange scars that crackle through his skin now.

      Oh how he longs for that cool blue flame.

 

 

**Horizon/ What They Want**

      Kaidan wants to kill John. Pulverize him in a biotic pulse, rip his heart from his chest the way John is doing him. Everything going wrong in the universe comes to a point, a big black hole that eats his eyes away and leaves behind nothing but a void he thought was empty but is now filled with blind rage.

      The memories of the SR-1 come back, unbidden: John and the hidden smile, the secrets Kaidan knows lurk behind those sapphire eyes, and maybe he would know them but for his own cowardice. Those eyes used to be a comfort but in this moment they are ice picks that tear apart his soul even as he feels them crawling on his back, or maybe that is the dull orange glow that has curled itself within them like a parasite.

      It’s Shepard, looks and sounds and feels like his Shepard, smells like him, mint with a dash of spice. It’s also not his Shepard, cybernetics a volcano ready to erupt from John’s skin, proving to Kaidan that this man he loved- _loves_ \- is either gone forever or broken beyond repair.

      And how is any of this possible? Just another chapter in the man’s unlikely life? Is that all he is, too? Maybe it’s all he was, because right now he feels like nothing.

      This is the moment he knows he’s lost Shepard for good, and he needs to stop lying to himself. He wants to do the opposite of kill him. He wants to live him, breathe him, throw himself on a grenade for him. But he won’t get what he wants, will he?

      No. That isn’t how the universe works, and Kaidan Alenko knows it.

     

 

      John wants Kaidan to shoot him.

      Anything is better than this mess between them right now. Sweet nothingness is all he wants, because he is losing Kaidan- has lost Kaidan- and he knows deep in his gut that Cerberus has destroyed all they might have had.

      And who is he kidding anyway? Kaidan doesn’t have those feelings for him now, has never had them, so why is John so torn up about it? Losing a friendship is like a broken heart, something that mends with a slight scar to remind you of the bittersweet bite of it. Losing Kaidan here is like losing a limb, in his words, or is that his way of giving John a hint, kicking him while he is down to tell him he loves him in some twisted fashion? Probably not; this ending of whatever they were to each other feels more like missing a lobe of his brain. Nothing works quite right anymore. The software tries to reboot but it’s missing the components it needs to work.

      John is a good man, knows that he has taken the shit in his life and kept on keepin’ on, weaving wonders out of mayhem. He remains the same man, and that Kaidan can’t see it already feels like a bullet to the heart. Not the head. The place where it matters. So why is he still standing here? How is he not in whatever hell broken souls go to when they die?

      The answer comes to him but he doesn’t like it; it tastes like ash on his tongue. It’s because he doesn’t really want to die, not by Kaidan’s bullet and not by anyone else’s. He wants to live, to survive this stupid suicide mission and drive a stake through the Reapers’ heart just for a real chance to show this man how much he loves him, how much he is loved.

      Will he get that chance? Probably not. John Shepard knows that is not how the universe works.

 

 

**Normandy SR-2/ What They Need**

      John looks at Kaidan with those ridiculous blues and something has shifted in them, hitting Kaidan in the face like a ton of bricks. He is blinded by it, squinting with pain as he fumbles around for something that makes sense. The shape of something real. None of this is real, is it?

      But when he opens his eyes and sees that John is still there, still giving him that look, showing him words only he can read, only for his eyes, he wonders. Could it be that this reality and his reality are one and the same? How that can be, Kaidan doesn’t know and probably never will. It’s too good to be true and so he’ll go along with the dream and then pinch himself afterwards until he wakes up.

      It’s a helluva dream, all of it. John’s patience, his surprisingly light and playful sense of humor. His adorable obsession with Blasto that he tries desperately to hide, pretending he has no inner child though it still shines through despite himself, pulled out of his soul and into the wide winds. His honor, like an old-timey white knight with a hero complex that always gets the girl, only this time the girl is _him_ and oh the maelstrom of emotions and sensations that awakens in his stomach. The deep-seated gentleness that is so sharply contrasted by the way Kaidan’s seen him warp cosmic energy to break his enemies apart on the battlefield.

      The way he makes Kaidan feel is even better, the hands, the touch that is all whispers down and up and all over him breaking his well-groomed defenses. The lips and his kiss, all colors of the rainbow. The breach of his most intimate area done carefully, with control and so much love that Kaidan thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. And when it finally sinks in that there’s no waking up, this is it, he doesn’t give a damn that there are Reapers in this reality. When he’s finally coming undone it’s not guilt or pain or anger that is flowing through him, it is nothing but John Shepard in his veins, and he finally has everything he needs to make it through.

     

 

      Kaidan looks at John like summertime, like air that is full and thick with wonder. Something still and sweet that John can breathe, molecules that make their way through his blood and into the meat of him. The solid mass that is the corporeal essence of _John_. That brief, shy glance is enough to take hold inside him, grow, become the thing that John has always been missing. More than a limb, more than a lobe. Something that slips the careful mask he’s always held in place. A softness he’s never held before or knew existed.

      When he touches Kaidan for the first time, _his_ Kaidan, all the fear and sadness and pain wash away in the face of his own fire and the other man’s ice. It is the strongest storm he has ever known, and he stands in awe before it. John does everything he can to show this precious man how he loves him, has always loved him, and Kaidan responds to every touch and tease like he was born to it, born to melt in John’s hands and heart. Somehow, they are complete, a part of each other like they had been even then, unknowing.

      But none of the past matters as the present is here and now, just like the part of his soul that was lost and is found. What happens tomorrow or the next day or the one after that could be good or bad. What happens then doesn’t matter. This is the moment he will live in, the dream he once had now a solid thing, unbelievable and yet it, somehow, exists. The two of them are part of one another and will be forever; he is surrounded by the blue of oblivion, and it is everything he needs to be whole again.

 


	5. Wrex

Ugh, he’s not looking forward to this.

The Normandy’s war room is crowded, humans and aliens working together side by side for once, busy trying to save the galaxy. John has his own thoughts on whether or not that is even possible, but he knows better than to say them aloud.

This, though- this needs to be said. He only prays he and the Normandy remain standing when it’s done.

God, he wishes Kaidan were here. But while he’s wishing, he might as well wish that Horizon never happened- hell, that the original Normandy never went down. Even better, that Reapers had never existed and that rainbows flew from the asses of unicorns.

 _Ugh_ , he thinks again, eloquently.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Shepard approaches the target of this unpleasant conversation.

“Wrex.”

“Shepard.”

Picturing with sudden clarity the carnage of a confrontation, he decides his cabin is the safest place for this conversation. He invites Wrex up.

“Sure, Shepard, just give me a minute. And just to be clear, there’s not going to be any funny business, is there? I kinda have my eye on someone.”

“... funny business?”

“Yeah. I have it on good authority that you, ah, prefer the company of your own gender.”

Oh god, he means krogan cock.

Oh _god_.

“That’s… no, not the reason. No offense, I mean, you’re a great catch.” _What? Just shut up, John_! “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Wrex laughs behind him as he walks away. He’s not sure whether to laugh or cry himself.

 

“So what’s going on? Oh.” Wrex stops in the doorway. John realizes he’s never seen the cabin here.

“Oh, come in. Feel free to look around.”

“Wow. These are colorful. Can I eat them?”

“Uh… no, they’re not for food. I suppose you could if we crash landed or something.”

He wants to bury his head in his hands. It’s like he’s fourteen and trying to flirt with the kid next door again. This nervousness is very unlike him. He figures it’s probably because of their mutual respect; he takes his membership into Clan Urdknot very seriously. This is an important relationship to John Shepard, for many, many reasons.

“Okay. So… oh,” Wrex says again.

What now?

He follows Wrex’ eyes to the desk.

 _Oh_.

“I didn’t realize, Shepard. I’m sorry. How did you even get hold of it?”

“I had a copy… in my old holofile. I made Miranda hack it and pull it for me. God, don’t tell him. He doesn’t know. Feel free to sit there, by the way. Chair’s sturdy”

“Ah, alright. Y’know, I figured I would’ve smelled it if something was going on.”

 _Uh, what?_ That’s a disturbing thought. _What other aliens can tell those kinds of things?_ He shudders. Sure, it’s biology. Still. Does he want to know the answer to that question?

“Lips are zipped, Shepard. Why am I here, though?”

“Well, I wanted to talk to you.”

“... clearly.”

Swallow. Breathe. Jump.

“About the genophage cure.”

Wrex leans back and studies Shepard. Some people take the krogan for war-mongering idiots, but this one has shown him just how shrewd some of them can be. Shrewd, and kind-hearted despite their sharp edges. Not at all like their stereotype. It gives him hope, but it makes this conversation all the more difficult.

Those shrewd eyes are on him now, and he knows that Wrex is considering how quickly he can get the jump on Shepard if need be. Wrex may be a krogan, but John’s pretty sure he could outlast him, even without armor. Cerberus made some _serious_ upgrades. Hopefully, it doesn’t come to that.

“I’m going forward with it. But I need you to understand my reservations on it. It wasn’t a straightforward decision, and I owe it to you to explain that much.”

“How is it not a straightforward decision, Shepard? It seems pretty clear cut to me.”

Good, Wrex is only a little irritated. He’s willing to listen, at least.

“It’s not that I am arguing that it was the right choice to make the genophage in the first place. But right now? Your species’ survival won’t matter if all of us die. Why couldn’t this wait?”

“Because it’s past time, Shepard. We have the opportunity and the leverage. It’s now or never.”

“Is it? Seems to me it’s now or never we save the galaxy. That’s pretty damn simple.”

Wrex lumbers to his feet and assumes a stance of threat. Shepard doesn’t back down, and he thanks his lucky stars he has the balls to do this.

“What are you saying, Shepard? Your mouth is making a fool of itself.”

“Wrex,” John says softly, “You’re fighting for yourselves, too. Not just the turians. Not just the salarians. For all of us.”

“Like I don’t get that?”

“I don’t know. I hope you do.”

The fight seems to go out of Wrex then. “Yeah, actually, I do. I get it. And if it had been just me making the decision, I would have considered waiting. I don’t think I’d come to the conclusion that it’s the wrong thing to do even now, because if someone renegs we are right back where we started. But I’d have listened to you, because I respect you, and I do understand. I would have considered having Mordin quietly make the cure, and then waiting until we won. But that didn’t happen, did it? The clans voted. Hell, the fact that I got the clans to vote instead of fight? Hell of a win, Shepard.”

“Yeah, that’s the next problem. What happens if you are assassinated by another krogan? A coup with the wrong krogan at the head… Wreav…”

Wrex snarls.

“Just imagine it. You’re not immortal, Wrex. I need to know there are enough of you who believe the krogan have a future outside of straight warfare to take up the mantle when you’re gone, whenever that is. I believe in the krogan, but I can’t lead them. And I probably won’t be around much longer, either.”

He sighs and leans against the fish tank.

“Do you see my dilemma? I’m with you, but I had to consider all of it. I’m putting my faith in you as their leader. Teach them. Tell them the story of the Normandy. Ashley. Pressley. The people who thought aliens weren’t worth their time. People who died to save the galaxy, aliens and all. Who changed their minds thanks to you, to Garrus, to Tali. The way you’ve all changed.”

“Yeah, I don’t need this, whatsit, kumbaya stuff. Like you, Shepard, I’m doing what I can, and what I have to. That’s all either of us can do. Isn’t that what you told me?”

“Yeah,” Shepard echoes. “It’s all we can do.”

They share a moment of melancholic silence before Wrex makes a move toward the elevator. It’d gone better than expected, Shepard reflects, watching the krogan walk away. Good to know he’s thought about it as deeply as John himself; now, John kinda feels bad for doubting him.

Wrex pulls him from his reverie before he makes it to the elevator. “If you want some advice, Shepard… or if you don’t, I don’t care… tell him. We might not live another day. Stop putting it off.”

Shepard doesn’t know what to say, so he just nods.

“Wrex.”

“Shepard.”


End file.
